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“Hey, Mister, we need some help. We’re trying to get a hotel room for the
night and we’re twenty dollars short.”
She approached us from the middle of Don
Gaspar as we were walking to dinner at The Shed. The frigid night was biting through my many
layers of clothing, our breath a cloud of vapor against the faint orange tint
of a street lamp. My wife and I had been
walking with our muffled faces down against the cold wind, so the woman had
encroached upon us before we saw her.
Because of that, I was immediately on guard. There was something about her request that
bordered on demand – a little too practiced, her words resonating off the
frozen pavement and stucco walls of adjacent buildings. My first impression was that she was way
underdressed; my second was that she possibly had Downs syndrome. One eye had a red hemorrhage slashed across
the white. She was definitely wired.
“We’re homeless. We need twenty dollars.” She spoke without making eye contact, looking
beyond me at other passing couples. Her
partner hung back in the shadows, male or female I couldn’t tell beneath the
hoodie.
“You’re homeless in Santa Fe this time of
year?” I said, seeking a moment to ascertain if she was genuinely in need. Her demanding tone had me thinking it was
another panhandle, someone needing a fix or money for a jug.
“Uh huh,” she said, still looking past me.
I decided it was a panhandle, but also
deciding it would be easier to give her a buck because of her aggressive
approach, like paying a toll. She eyed
my wallet as I opened it. Damn…tens and
twenties only. Maybe for a person in
need but not for this one.
“Honey, do you have a dollar for this lady?”
I asked. My wife withdrew a one from her
purse and handed it over. The girl held
it to the light to determine its value, or maybe to make sure it wasn’t
counterfeit. She jammed it into her
pocket with obvious disgust, never a thanks, already turning her attention
toward another couple approaching.
“Hey, maybe a little gratitude…?” I said, not
that I expected any.
As we moved on toward San Francisco Street,
her demanding refrain echoed behind us in the chilly night.
